


The Bet

by prettyonthethrone



Category: Outlander (TV) RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:11:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyonthethrone/pseuds/prettyonthethrone
Summary: Sam and Caitriona have to film their first sex scene since they've started dating. Set during filming of 2x04.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Still here, still trash shipping. Try and stop me.

"It's going to be different."

Caitriona rips both sets of chopsticks open and sets one at his place and one at hers. "It's not going to be different," she argues. "It's going to be exactly the same. We're not making this shit up as we go. Everything is choreographed."

"Says the woman who literally admitted to our interviewer that she goes off script during sex scenes - _after_ confessing that she doesn't wear her modesty pouch," Sam deadpans.

"I'm just telling the people what they want to hear."

"Did they give us extra soy this time?" He hands her a glass of red wine and takes his seat at the table.

"Yes."

"Thank Christ. Last time I was scraping the bottom of my cup."

Cait rolls her eyes. "So dramatic. Maybe if we bought our own soy sauce—"

"It's never as good as the ones they bring."

"You only didn't like the one I bought because it was low sodium," Cait points out as she grabs a piece of the Dynamite roll with her chopsticks.

"And ye'll not waste money on it again. Stop changing the subject. We need to plan."

"Plan what? Plan how to hide the fact that we're _together_?" She places a purposely theatrical emphasis on the last word and Sam knees her with his leg under the table. "We've been doing it for months."

Sam swallows down his bite with a sip of wine. "Aye, and we haven't had a sex scene since we started. All our efforts at keeping this hidden will go to shit if we're not prepared."

"What do you want me to do, hon? Will myself not to get wet while I'm naked and you're naked and I'm on top of you? Good luck."

"I'm worried for myself as well. It was hard enough to control myself before I had ye, but now that I know what it's like to really be with you..." Sam sighs. "I'm just afraid I'm going to, I don't know – forget – where Jamie is supposed to touch you and put my hands instead where I want them to be."

"Jesus, this new roll is good. We're getting it again. Which one is it?"

"Tuna Paradise," he answers.

"Mm." Cait takes another piece. "I think you're overthinking this. No one but us notices when we go off-script."

"That's not true - Maril—"

"Only pointed that out _once_ because it was crucial in the book." Cait pauses to tilt her head at him. She watches his thoughts turn in his head and questions momentarily how she ever doubted that this – dating him, loving him – would be so easy when she's been able to read his mind like a book since just a few months after they'd met. "Don't think about it," she tells him. "Treat it like you have any other scene."

He raises both eyebrows amusedly and grabs another piece of sushi with his chopsticks. "I'll make ye a deal."

"What deal?"

"If we go to work tomorrow and nothing has changed – if we get through the whole scene and don't feel just a wee bit different and no one has picked up on anything – you can choose where we spend our winter holiday."

"Putting Nice on the line, are you, Heughan?"

He nods. "I am. This is my chance to take ye to the Spanish mountains and I think I'm going to get it."

"It's a _holiday_. We're supposed to _relax_."

"What's more relaxing than a good hike?"

Cait just glares at him.

-

Later, when their takeout has been disposed off and their wine polished off, Cait stands by the bathroom counter beside her boyfriend as he finishes brushing his teeth. She picks up her eye creme from where it sits with the rest of her collection of facial products and begins slowly applying it.

"Hey, who knows?" She murmurs. "You might get lucky. You've been so obsessed with the bump when it's hidden behind clothes, but perhaps when I'm naked in it it'll be more of a turn-off. It's quite the ugly, fucking giant bitch of a prosthetic."

Sam sets his toothbrush back in its holder – _his_ spot residing in _her_ bathroom – and turns to face her. He crosses his arms over his chest.

"Are ye mad, Caitriona?"

She doesn't look at him, focusing instead on rubbing the creme into the creases beneath her eyes. "What?"

Sam steps towards her and reaches both arms out to pull her close to him. Her back presses into his front, his arms enveloped tight around her body, and Cait watches in the mirror as he leans down to press a kiss to the spot where her neck meets her shoulder.

"I wasn't done with my routine—"

"You can finish shortly," Sam promises. He pauses to kiss the same spot again, and then turns her in his arms so that they're face-to-face.

"If you think, for even a minute, that seeing you, naked, looking so believably pregnant, is going to do anything to me other than make me want to take ye right there on set – with whoever the hell watching – then ye're wrong. Verra, verra wrong."

Cait swallows hard and hardly dares to blink, lest she miss a single millisecond of seeing the look of pure adoration and want in his eyes. She loves him like this. When he's so passionate about wanting, _needing_ her to understand something that he refuses to break contact with her until he's confident that she knows what he is trying to express. It sends a flood of heat straight through her, leaving it to pool in her lower belly and giving her the feeling that only the peak of a roller coaster ride just before the thrilling dip can provide.

They haven't talked about the possibility of children. They haven't even talked about marriage. But with how sure Sam sounds about his declaration that Caitriona's (even _fake_ ) pregnant body would delight him more than she can imagine, it's almost as if he'd mentioned his dream to her hundreds of times before.

The dream of seeing her, swollen with his child, becoming a mother, because of him.

Sam had figured that his obsession with the prosthetic bump she'd been wearing for the better part of the last four months would be enough to subtly let his lover know that he hoped one day, for them, it could be real. The look in Cait's eyes as he speaks it out loud, lucky for him, tells him that she has understood.

She doesn't look surprised. Just, perhaps, surprised to hear him say it aloud. So boldly.

"Take me to bed," she whispers.

He smiles and it reaches his eyes and Cait is sure her heart actually flutters. He leans down to kiss her, lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist in the process.

"What about the rest of your routine—"

"Oh, fuck off," she mumbles before kissing him again, and he chuckles as he walks carefully with her to the bed.

-

Upon arriving to the set in different cars, Caitriona and Sam each learn individually that the anticipated scene is fourth on the call sheet. They've got a few minor things to film, mostly separately, before Jamie and Claire finally reunite sexually in what the fans are sure to be waiting for all season.

While Caitriona strips down and steps into her robe, she tries to remember the exact motions that she and Sam had run through yesterday. She's _not_ nervous, she pointedly reassures herself, but she wants to have a base line – a back-up plan – in the event that seeing Sam and doing _this_ with him completely throws her off.

They've done crazier sex scenes than this – no doubt about that. She's bitten his flesh from his neck to the top of his pubic hair. She's "ridden him" as she held a knife to his throat. Hell, even their scene where Jamie is giving Claire oral sex was more adventurous than this one, if only for the reason that Caitriona was embarrassingly wet during and after filming from merely the sensation of Sam's face so close to her heat.

Looking back, Cait is rather certain that that afternoon on set, filming that scene, is when she decided resolutely that she needed to know what Sam's tongue actually felt like. She knew he could smell her – with how close he was, and even through the thin privacy patch she'd decided to wear that day, she figured it would drive him mad.

It had turned out that she was right – about him smelling her, yes, but also about her theory that his tongue could do sinful, wonderful things to her.

By the time Cait comes onto the set in Claire's casual robe (casual being merely the word she and Terry use - as there is nothing at all casual about Claire's lavish _relaxed_ apparel in Paris), Sam is already waiting. He's dressed in his robe from Costumes, and Cait has to laugh. She punches him squarely in the chest and he grins.

"Ready?"

"Oh, I'm ready," he answers. "I just put back half a bottle of whisky."

"Bloody idiot," she tells him, but she still laughs at the joke. "How's your penis restrainer?"

His grin immediately disappears and she smiles mischievously. "Ye know I can't stand it when you call it that."

"I don't give a shit."

Sam rolls his eyes. "It's tightened. I'm not getting myself in any trouble today – and neither are you."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"The sleeve? It's just—"

"No, the pressure of a hard-on against the penis rest—"

"Caitriona," he sighs, but the stern face he's giving her doesn't stand when she's already burst into a fit of giggles.

"Sam," the PA says as she approaches the actors, "you can go ahead and get comfortable in the daybed."

Caitriona smirks as she backs away, allowing Sam to remove his robe and hand it to the young woman, leaving him in nothing but his modesty sleeve. He crawls onto the bed and, after several production members get the set established, they're ready to film.

By this point, Caitriona has filmed enough scenes in the nude that she hardly thinks twice about Claire dropping her robe to get into bed with her husband.

Despite the dimmer than usual lighting they're shooting in, Cait sees the flicker that crosses Sam's eyes when she reveals her naked body – prosthetic bump included – before him.

"Claire," Sam utters, his voice wavering, and Cait wonders if it's both Sam's and Jamie's breathlessness.

"Shh," she delivers her line, but as she settles on top of him she sees something that makes her completely forget what comes next.

She looks down at Sam, her fingers gently pressing into the hairs on his chest. For the first time since even the idea of this scene crossed her mind, she feels a bout of insecurity.

"Cut," Douglas calls.

"Shit, sorry," Cait says immediately. "Sorry, I blanked."

"I look that good?"

She looks down at Sam and he's wearing a shit-eating grin.

"Fuck off."

"Reset," someone else calls out, and before she knows it Caitriona is back in Claire's robe, ready to drop it again.

Sam had been right: this was completely different.

But Cait is certain that it's not because they're dating, or because it feels like they're showcasing the sort of intimacy that they share in their own bed at home, away from any cameras.

It isn't until Claire climbs on top of Jamie, again, that Cait remembers exactly how she'd felt just two minutes before.

She's less shocked this time, and she delivers her lines without issue. She brushes her unruly hair out of her face and leans down the best she can just as Sam reaches up to meet her.

Some things are easier.

When Jamie is kissing Claire’s breasts, which he does quite a lot in this particular scene, Cait doesn’t have to think as much about her facial expressions. It’s similar to when Sam pays her breasts attention in the privacy of their bed, only Jamie doesn’t dirty talk or whisper _I love you_ s between kisses.

It’s also much, much easier in the sense that Cait doesn’t have to worry about the wetness between her thighs seeping onto Sam’s legs and waist. In the beginning, she was almost constantly self-conscious that he would feel her, smell her. They’d been told repeatedly by producers, choreographers, and anyone else with a say in the matter that it was perfectly normal for actors to become aroused while filming a sex scene – even if they had no romantic or sexual interest in their scene partner. The fact that Caitriona was sexually, and, eventually romantically, attracted to Sam did nothing but stir more internal panic during each intimate scene.

Now, though, it’s a cake walk.

She grinds her body against his, enjoying his sounds of pleasure and the way he holds her on top of him.

But the difference – the thought – doesn’t leave her mind even after they’ve finished the scene.

She doesn’t mean to be distant, and no one other than maybe Maril seems to notice that she’s a thousand miles away for the remainder of the day.

Sam at least has the sense to wait and ask her about it once they’re home. They’ve just finished eating the food they’d ordered in when he finally chooses to bring it up.

“Can we talk?” He asks gently.

“About what?”

“Cait.”

“What?”

He sighs. “About today. About the fact that ye looked ready to float off into a cloud at any given moment after our scene.”

Cait doesn’t answer, so Sam gives her several minutes to sit in her silence while he cleans up their dinner mess. He doesn’t speak again until he sees her eyes watering.

"Talk to me, Caitriona."

Cait brushes away the tear she’s embarrassed by and shrugs as if she hasn't been thinking about this very thought on a loop all day. "It's stupid."

Sam takes her hand, and she allows him to lead her over to the couch and sit. They face each other, so that their knees are kissing, and Sam rubs a hand in circles on her thigh.

"Are ye upset, babe?" He asks again.

Caitriona shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I'm not upset. I just – I understand now." She sniffles and smiles sheepishly at him. "I understand why we fought so hard for that scene. And I'm glad that we did."

Sam stares at her, patiently, saying nothing, until she eventually continues.

"It was different," she begins again, unwilling to meet his glance. "Not with us – but with—"

"The bump."

Cait's eyes snap up to meet his. "What?"

Sam smiles softly. "I know. I agree."

"But I haven't even—"

"Ye think I need to hear words come out of that lovely mouth for me know what you're thinking?"

Caitriona doesn't say anything. Sam folds his hand into hers, tangling their fingers.

"We can talk about it, babe. I know we fought for the scene for Jamie and Claire, but we didn't ever talk about what it would be like for us – for Sam and Caitriona."

"We're idiots."

Sam chuckles. "Aye, maybe we are."

"It took up all the air in the fucking room," Cait says after a long pause. "It was like this giant elephant, only it was attached to the front of me, and, god, it's _there_ when it's covered by my shift or my dresses or whatever the hell else I'm wearing, but being _naked_ in it – with you – was just – it was just so bizarre.”

Caitriona finally takes a breath as Sam rubs his thumb against the soft skin of her hand.

"It's just ridiculous," she continues again, "because it's not as if we've talked about children or even marriage or anything close to either topic, and that's normal – It's barely been half a year – but yet suddenly we're simulating _pregnant sex_ , of all things, and it feels almost irresponsible to not talk about those things because otherwise it's just this huge weird aura of the thing that we're avoiding talking about. And—"

"Cait," Sam interrupts her. He squeezes her hand.

"What?"

"I already said I agree – we should talk about it."

"You said about the scene, not about—"

"About both. About the scene, and about us. I want to talk about us, babe."

"You have got to be the only man alive who has uttered those words."

"I mean them – ye know I do. And, Caitriona..." Sam pauses and swallows. "Ye also know that I'm ready whenever you are."

"For—"

"For all of it. For the rings and the bump and everything else."

Caitriona nods and doesn't speak for nearly a minute.

"I do want to talk about it," she promises. "Can we – this weekend? I'm exhausted, and, after today, I don't think I could get through a word of it without falling apart."

He smiles. "Aye. Of course."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Let's go to bed, hm?"

Cait nods, and Sam places one arm under her knees and the other around her lower back to scoop her into his embrace.

"I may be dead tired, but my legs still work, you know," Cait comments as he carries her to the bedroom.

"I like to carry ye," Sam insists. "Makes me feel manly."

She snorts and he laughs, which in turn makes her laugh.

"You're ridiculous, Heughan."

When they enter the room, Cait makes a move to get down. "Don't put me on the bed. I'll never get up for my routine."

Sam obliges and sets her on her feet, but keeps her locked in his arms. He leans down to kiss her deeply, holding her waist with two large hands.

"You know something?" She says once they've parted. Her fingers stay entwined in the hair at the base of his neck.

"What?"

"I think Maril knows about us."

"What makes you say that?"

"Between takes – well, during that particularly long break between takes – we were lying in the bed, remember?" Sam nods. "And I don't remember doing anything in particular – I think we were just chatting – but Maril told me later that we seemed very cozy."

"Cozy?"

"Cozy. She had this look, like...I don't know – like she knew."

"We were only talking," Sam says. "Maybe laughing. But we talk and laugh all the time."

"It might have had something to do with the fact that we were also naked. And you were rubbing my arm."

"Oh, so it's my fault, then?"

"Yes, I think it is," Cait giggles.

Sam rolls his eyes, grins, and kisses her again. As they kiss, Cait slides her hands down his back and reaches for the hem of his t-shirt.

"I thought ye said no more sex before 5am pickups," he points out breathlessly. "And you're exhausted, babe."

"If you really want me to get a good night's sleep, you shouldn't kiss me like that."

"Mm," Sam hums against her lips. "My fault again?"

"Yes." Caitriona pulls her thin sweater over her head, revealing her braless chest. "Surely you don't mind."

Sam walks her backwards until her knees bend at the edge of the bed and he can crawl on top of her. "No," he whispers between kisses that trail down the length of her body. “I don’t mind at all.”

-

"I just remembered something."

Caitriona is too sleepy and too lazy to lift her head from Sam's chest to look up at him, so she settles for mumbling a muffled "hmm" against his skin. Sam shifts to pull her naked body closer to him, closing a hand around her hip.

"I won the bet."

Cait pauses, thinking, remembering. And then, "Ugh."

Sam grins. "We'll be hiking the mountains of Spain on our winter holiday."

"But I want to lie on a _beach_ ," Cait groans.

"There are beaches in Spain, babe."

Cait sighs. "Fine. I'm going to sleep, to dream about the beautiful French cottage we could have stayed in."

Sam chuckles and kisses her head. "I'll take ye to Paris soon. Perhaps for your birthday next year."

"Mm, that sounds nice." She nestles closer into his chest. "Promise?"

"Promised."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm samcaiteddie on Tumblr.


End file.
